Loss
by Mimi-Tachikawa-Ishida
Summary: My take on what happened the evening of the funeral. (Drabble)


_Author's Note: Okay, so I know it's been done, but this episode ALWAYS gives me feels. I was watching the Brotherhood version._

It was the evening of the funeral.

Roy Mustang had attempted to interrogate as many people as possible; having thought his grieving time was over shortly after the ceremony. He was still in his dress uniform, as was his adjutant who followed his footsteps throughout the trying day.

It wasn't until they arrived at his apartment complex that it started to creep up on him.

Riza knew that it wasn't wise to leave him alone, but she was torn as to how to go about doing this. She couldn't exactly reach out and hold him, telling him everything would be alright. No, that would be inappropriate, and if she were being honest with herself, it would be a lie as well for all she knew.

Instead, she made the decision to park and turn off the car she was driving. Roy looked at Riza with tired eyes and opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't bring himself to do so. He needed the company; the distraction.

They silently walked upstairs to his elaborate apartment (his rank and pay as a State Alchemist allowed him such luxuries). It seemed almost normal with the way he allowed her inside and she went about making them tea… except this occasion wasn't exactly normal. His jacket was off, fallen on the floor as he missed the coat stand. He thought about waiting for the tea and sitting on the couch in the living room, but instead walked to his bedroom and fell backwards onto his bed. Thoughts started pouring into his head as he clenched his fists.

"Sir?" Riza's voice was quiet and concerned. She had taken off her own jacket, her formal military attire still on her person as well, minus her shoes. In her hands was a tray with two cups, a small kettle, cream, and sugar. She set the tray on the nightstand as she walked into his room. "Sir, perhaps you should drink some tea… it might help you sleep tonight."

His eyes welled with tears, and his face contoured into an angry scowl as he snapped at her.

"How can I sleep when his murderer is still out there?!"

She didn't flinch. In fact, her eyes softened and tears threatened to drop from her own eyes. She contemplated reaching out to touch his hand, but decided against it. His voice shook, and his words were quiet as he allowed himself the luxury of letting himself continue his thoughts.

"How can anyone sleep…? How can Gracia or Elysia close their eyes at night knowing he won't come back home?"

Riza made the bold move to sit on the edge of the empty side of his bed, and his face turned to look at her.

"Colonel…" her tears were silent, dainty, so unlike the person she shows to the world.

"I've lost my best friend, Riza…" it was so rare that he ever said her first name that he almost choked on it. It had been years. Not since they were children and he was studying under her father. At the moment however, he may as well been as vulnerable as a child. There was silence, and Riza poured the tea into the two cups, fixing each the way they both liked it. She stood, carrying his, and moved to the other side of the bed where he lay, his eyes watching her, his head turning with every move she made. He took a steadying breath and sat up, using a handkerchief to clean his face as best as he could and accepted the offering of the cup, only to set it down on the nightstand on his side, and promptly take her by the waist, wrapping his arms around her, and buried his head into her stomach.

She stiffened, shocked for a moment, but relaxed slightly, reaching out to hold his head in her hands gently.

She decided that formalities were not necessary in the wake of recent happenings, and she wouldn't protest… not when he needed her the most.

His shoulders shook, and he let himself cry, repeating to her (or maybe to himself) "I've lost my best friend." They allowed themselves this for a while, and when he seemed to finally have cried as much as he could, his red swollen eyes looked up into hers. He looked so broken.

"I can't lose you."

Her hands brushed through his hair, softly caressing behind his ear.

"You won't."

Her voice was quiet, but reassuring, and she continued.

"You won't lose me… I knew I would follow you the moment you forced your way into my life. Before the war. Before all of this talk of state alchemists, and military, and homunculus." She kneeled down slowly, her hands never leaving his person, moving slowly down from his head, to his face, to his shoulders, to land on his arms when she was at his level, and continued.

"You won't lose me. And you won't lose yourself. I trust you. I know that you'll pull through this. You'll keep your promises to Maes, and you'll keep your promises to me. You'll protect his family, and you'll protect everyone that you care about so this won't happen to anyone else. And you will try as hard as you can to make life better for all of us." Her hands moved to caress his face, his own hand moving to hold hers against it. "So tonight… tonight we grieve. Tonight we let ourselves be broken because we're human. And tomorrow? Tomorrow may not be easier, but tomorrow we begin to move forward. Col- Roy…" the name caught in her throat as well, "You won't lose me, but I can't afford to lose you either. Don't let his death be in vain. Learn from it, and get the bastards who did it. But I can't lose you."

It was a split second, honestly, it had to have been, but the moment she finished her last sentence, his hands moved to the sides of her face… and the thought crossed his mind to kiss her- but left when his senses came to him. Or maybe they came to her first. They didn't know, but all they knew was that this… this intimacy was what they wanted.

One day.

One day they could be in this position without the unfortunate reasoning.

She stood.

"I- I should go hom-" Riza started, adjusting herself, when a hand reached out to take her wrist.

"Don't."

"Colonel, I really should-"

"Riza… just for tonight… just stay with me. I don't know what I'm capable of without you right now."

She paused… he was scared. Not for any other reason, but that he might falter in his goals. She swore to protect him, and that included protecting him from himself. She nodded wordlessly and took the teacup, walked to the other side of the bed, set it on the tray, and walked it back to the kitchen. She cleaned it, not wanting him to worry, only to return to him in long pajama pants and similar ones set out for her with a button down dark colored shirt. For the second time that evening, she took a breath from shock. She changed her clothes in the bathroom, and lied down on the empty side of the bed.

It should have been uncomfortable.

In fact, she berated herself for not feeling uncomfortable.

But he needed her.

She turned with her back facing him, and he reached a hand to touch her shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered.

And they slept.

In the morning, he did as she told him. He didn't stop grieving, but he set new plans in motion.

He wouldn't need to tell her that she saved him again.

She already knew.


End file.
